


World Cup

by KuraiOfAnagura



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: FIFA World Cup 2018, Honestly just a story about the World Cup held in Russia, M/M, Russian skating Fam, Victor and Yuri's friendship, Yuri Plisetsky adores his grandfather, Yuri Plisetsky is a (not so) closet football fan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 19:20:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15150092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuraiOfAnagura/pseuds/KuraiOfAnagura
Summary: The FIFA World Cup takes place 2018 in Russia.Yuuri Katsuki learns that his Russian counterpart's a not so closet football fan, mostly thanks to his football enthusiastic Grandfather.And maybe the Cup's a good possibility for Victor and Yuri to finally get on some better terms again?Inspired by the sketch of snow_cat00 (Twitter) of Yuri and Victor cheering for their team.





	World Cup

**Author's Note:**

> https://twitter.com/snow_cat00/status/1011616941268586498  
> That's the link to the tweet that inspired me for writing this.

 

Yakov had tried to install an _all mobiles must be muted_ rule during practicing hours, but after one particular dramatic occasion of Makkachin eating paint and the frenetic calls of the dog sitter that went unanswered the gruff Russian coach revoked the rule again.  
Though it was forbidden to answer the phone during ice time, Yuri recognized the ring tone as his grandfather’s and since he was in his cool down lapses, he picked it up anyway. Yakov, who’d recognized the melody as well only grumbled under his breath and made sure Mila didn’t try to cut the edges on her laps.

Yuuri Katsuki and Victor stood on the ice already, eager to start on their scheduled slot but patiently waiting for the others to finish.

Yuuri had taken a lot of language courses by now and while he still struggled to read Cyrillic he was able to manoeuvre his way throughout daily live in St Petersburg. They all spoke English at the rink, he was not the only international athlete training here by now. At home though they’d developed a nice mix out of Russian, English and Japanese and otherwise was proud to be able to go grocery shopping on his own or ordering at the restaurant for himself. But as soon as Yuri picked up the phone and opened his mouth he was absolutely lost after the first ‘ _Deda_!’

Victor saw his confusion and asked, “is everything alright, my love?”

Yuuri just pointed on the younger skater. “What is he saying? That’s not Russian, is it? Does Yurio know another language?”

What he hadn’t anticipated was for Mila to snort and Victor to erupt into laughter.

“What?”

“Oh, this is Russian! Or let’s say: by some degree we can file it under Russian, if the circumstances apply?”

“I’m really lost?” Victor might’ve taken pity on his fiancé, but he was laughing too hard so Mila took it as her responsibility to explain.

“You see, Yuri’s from Moscow and he used to have this really heavy dialect when he first arrived here. The people in Moscow speak as if they don’t move their jaws and sometimes it’s even hard for us to understand him. He’s a lot better now but I don’t know if he even realizes it, but every time he talks to his dedushka he slips back into the broadest dialect you can imagine!”

Recognition dawned on Yuuri’s face, but a loud laughing yell from the other side took their attention. Yuri must’ve yelled something into his phone that his grandfather didn’t approve of, because now he held the phone on arm’s length and they all could hear Nikolay Plisetsky’s screams of rage clear from across the ice.

“Was there a game today?” Victor asked, still grinning widely.

“Sure there was,” Yakov intervened from the side line. “I was waiting for the call actually. He always calls Yuratchka after an important game or a spectacular win.” It was obvious he’d given up on the rest of the ice time by now. Yura would go to Lilia after that and Mila had a cardio session in the gym. He wasn’t needed for either of them.

“What kind of game?”

“Paravozy, of course,” came the sneered answer. Yuri had finished his call and accepted the terrycloth from Yakov and started wiping down his skates.

“Huh?”

“Locomotive Moscow. That’s the biggest football club in Moscow and the Plisetsky’s are big supporters.”

Yuri made a sound of disgust at Victor’s ignorance. “More like of all of Russia! They won the Russian Cup this year and will probably be the Champion of the top league this season as well!”

“I know that they won, Yura. Nikolay’s cheers made it really clear. I heard it all the way from your room when he called you,” Yakov said in a fond tone.

“Yeah, Dedulja’s like the biggest fan ever,” Yuri continued to Yuuri, “he has season tickets for all of the home games and usually comes over when they’re playing against Petir. And he’s a real hard core hooligan! He’s always checked on fireworks and hidden weapons when it’s an outside game. He’s on the blacklist on five different stadiums and prohibited to visit any away games outside of Russia for the Champions League!” Yuri finished his tale with a face splitting grin and big sparkling eyes.

Yuuri on the other hand was a little bit lost on why a blacklisted grandfather is a thing to be proud of and just nodded politely.  
He’d met Nikolay Plisetsky a couple of times by now, but it had mostly been on the Rostlecom Cup when it was held in either St. Petersburg or Moscow. He’d the picture of a stoic and strict older man in mind that melted as soon as he could dote on his grandson. Though he had to be honest he’d never met with the man on a private occasion.

“You see, my love, there has to be a source where Yurio learned all of his swearing and yelling from!” Victor exclaimed happily.

“Oh, shut up, old man! Don’t call me that!” But his tone was in jest and the good mood couldn’t be dissuaded by Victor alone.

 

\--

 

“I didn’t really take you for a soccer fan, Yuri,” Yuuri mentioned to him the next morning in the locker room.

“Oh, for fucks sake, Katsudon! I swear! If you ever call it soccer one more time I will shave your fiancé’s hair that you ogle so much in his sleep! I will let this one slide, since you obviously don’t know it any better!”

“Ah, sorry, I’m sorry! But you know, with going to college in Detroit and so on, it kind of stuck?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t piss yourself. Like I said, it’s ok for this once.”

Yuuri gave a relieved sigh and Yuri made a show of rolling his eyes.

“Well, you see, it’s kinda hard not to like something if you’ve grown up with it. It’s like as if you’d say ‘oh, no, I’m not that fond of a bath in the Onsen, I prefer the shower!’”

“Blasphemie!”

“You see? It’s exactly like that. Deda is such a big fan of the sport and of course of the club. Thanks to him though I have a fan club back in Moscow that consists entirely of retired football hooligans! Deda loves to brag about me with his buddies.”

“So, you wouldn’t be opposed when I’d ask you to come over today and we play a little bit of FIFA 17?”

“Throw in some of your cooking and I might consider it.”

Yuuri had to laugh. Deep down Yuri still was just a teenager at the promise of free food. No matter how early he’d moved from home to train to become an international athlete.

His grandfather had every right to brag with him.

 

\--

 

Later the night Yuri commented on how he hoped to get his hands on tickets for at least the group games for the world championship that would be held in Russia the next summer.

“But you see you can’t just buy the tickets. You have to be drawn in a lottery first and then you’re allowed to buy them and only for the game’s that you were selected for. So it’s all about luck and goddamit Katsudon! How are you so good at this?”

“Yuuuuri, I feel neglected! I love how you and Yurio can bond over video games, but football is soooo boring! It’s just a bunch of guy running after a ball! Where’s the drama, where’s the aesthetic in that?” Victor lamented dramatically from the loveseat while both Yuri’s sat on the couch with controllers in their hands.

“Boring? I swear every time you open that mouth of yours even more screwed up bullshit spills out of it! Was it uncouth to kick a ball when you grew up with a silver spoon in your mouth?”

Yuuri’s eyes flew wide open in panic; Victor’s casual comment must’ve hit a nerve with Yuri. Usually he stayed fairer in his insults. Very rarely the different financial backgrounds of the skaters were used in an argument by either of them.

  
Yuri was still bitter and hurt about how Victor went off to Japan to coach Yuuri, effectively sabotaging his senior’s debut; even though Victor very much knew how much Yuri needed the price money to support his family. Yuuri was sure Yuri could never really forgive Victor this betrayal, even more so since Victor had never gotten around apologizing for real to him. Yuuri would never change the circumstances for anything in the world; Victor’s actions back then had brought him the best things of his live. But after getting to know Yuri’s side of the story he’d come to understand the protégé’s actions and behaviour much more.  
Which is also why he took Yuri’s side in the argument, trying to prevent a screaming match.

“But football’s plenty of interesting, Vitya! And Japan’s qualified for the world cup as well. It would be great to cheer for the team here! Actually I know some of the players personally from some joint sport’s events.”

He dared to look at Yuri, who’d gripped the controller with white knuckles, practically seething.

“I’m going home. Thanks for the food, Katsudon.” The controller was tossed onto the couch and Yuri was out of the living room in a rush. They could hear him picking up his coat, backpack and shoes before the door fell into its lock. He was out of the apartment so fast he probably would put on his shoes in the hallway.

Yuuri couldn’t help himself as a sigh escaped him.

“What did I do wrong?” Yuuri looked at Victor and his heart melted at the defeated look on his face. “I’m serious. Please, tell me.”

“Football means a lot to him. Not only because of the game or that strange club, but because it’s a connection to his grandfather. So you basically insulted that.”

Victor exhaled heavily through the nose and looked around the apartment floor a little lost. Yuuri wanted to jump up and wrap him in his arms, but he knew that was not what Victor needed right now, at least not yet.

“I’m really trying,” Yuuri’s heart was about to break how distraught Victor’s voice sounded.

He had to agree with Yuri that Victor had hurt him and the people around him (including Yuuri on occasions) a great deal in the past with his casual and airheaded behaviour. Georgie had given up a long time ago, Yakov was resigned and Yuri fought him back with teeth and claws at every chance he got.  
The reason Yuuri though could always forgive him was that it never happened out of evil intent. It took them a lot of time to work out the right means of communication and even after years together they were still learning. Victor realised a lot of his missteps in his discussions with Yuuri, but for some incidents he was either too proud or too much of a coward to really admit it. That he ran off to Japan, abandoning Yuri and then humiliating him during the Onsen on Ice event was still a sore point because of his lack of courage.  
Yet he tried hard to do better and despite all of the clawing and hissing from Yuri he’d managed to develop a thin band of friendship between them.

Which didn’t mean though that the occasional slip up didn’t happen.

“I know you do, Vitya. And Yuri knows it, too.”

“Does he?” Finally Victor looked up and Yuuri took it as his clue to hug him.

“He really does. Otherwise he wouldn’t come over. He really is like a cat. You can bribe him with as much food as possible, if he didn’t like it here, he would never come by!”

At this Victor had to chuckle.

“Just try to apologize to him tomorrow, okay? And don’t by him the tickets. He would read it the wrong way.”

“Okay. I’ll think of something.”

 

\--

 

“What do you want, old man? Stop getting in my way!”

A lesser man would’ve been smothered to crisps under the hot glare of the blond skater. Victor suppressed a shudder and squared his shoulders instead.

“Yura, I wanted to apologize for yesterday. I haven’t realized how much I would hurt you with my casual comment.”

“Yeah, whatever. Now let me through!” Yuri’s quick acceptance of the apology hinted that he may also feel guilty about his mean remark. Despite being financially more stable, Yuri knew that Victor’s childhood wasn’t always a happy one.

Relieved not to be disembowelled alive with ice skates, Victor reached into his back pocket and produced a slip of paper.

“This is the email address of an acquaintance of mine, Dimitri Lobov. He used to work in the Olympic department of the sport’s ministry, but had switched to football some years ago. He’s a comparable small light, but if you write him and explain who you are he might be able to tweak some things for you and get you and your grandpa tickets without betting on the lottery.”

Yuri was clearly surprised as he first blinked several seconds at the piece of paper, then at Victor and then on the paper again before he finally took it.

“Uhm… well, uh, thanks. I, uhm, will do that. It would be great if it works. Uh, you see, Deda’s really excited about the world cup being held in Russia and stuff. So, uh, thanks. And sorry. About yesterday.”

It took every ounce of willpower for Victor to not erupt into cooing, because he was just too damn proud of Yuri. The Yuri of his senior debut would’ve refused until his dying day to acknowledge a mistake in his behaviour. Victor tried really hard to be a better person, but as always Yuri was right on his heels.

“It’s okay. You were right actually. I never played much football when I was small.”

“That’s kinda sad, Victor.”

“It is, isn’t it? But maybe you can teach me?”

 

\--

 

“It’s sooooo unfaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiir!”

“Vitya, stop wailing. You’re being dramatic again.”

“But Yuuuuuri! I’m supposed to be the face of Russia’s figure skating! Why didn’t they ask me?”

“Vitya, you always say how little you know about soc- football. Yura had to explain offside to you like 500 times! And he’s well known to be a football fan! That one selfie of him and his grandpa at the finale of his creepy club got even mentioned in the news. Plus he can do these cool tricks while juggling a ball. I saw it when he tried to teach you how to kick a ball properly.”

“If I’d known what I would create, I would’ve never given him Dimitri’s email!”

Yuuri huffed in good humour and went to start on dinner. He’d also learned that sometimes you have to leave Victor alone in his misery.

Yuri had obviously contacted Victor’s acquaintance Dimitri Lobov from the ministry of sports with the polite request to be able to purchase tickets for himself and his grandfather without attending the lottery. He explained who he was (with some strategically placed links to his Wikipedia page, his medal table of the ISU and an article about his Olympic medal) and explained his grandfather’s love for not only Lokomotive Moscow, but also the sport and how his dreams came true with the cup coming to Russia.

What nobody expected was Lobov to call him back the very next day with the promise of tickets for him and his grandfather throughout the entire tournament. In return he wanted to have Yuri in promotional video clips along with other Russian athletes that would be broadcasted at the beginning of the games. It had to be run with Yuri’s coaching and management team, but it was only a matter of formalities.  
Yuri had been ecstatic as he told them the news, instantly being crowded by not only the other skaters but also the rink staff. Vladimir the Zamboni driver declared himself as his biggest fan in jest, asking how much he’d like for the tickets of the opening game? Would a liver be enough?

And this exactly appeared to be the problem. Because whenever Victor didn’t get his spotlight, the world was ending.

“Yuuri, please, explain it to me. Tell me what I have to do?” Yuuri jerked in surprise, he hadn’t heard how Victor had gotten up from his drama-loveseat and padded towards the kitchen entrance.  
He had his out-of-my-depths-look that was border lining on panic if you didn’t know him so well.

“I cannot tell you what to do Vitya, you have to decide for yourself. But in this case I can advise you?”

“Please.”

“You already did so good when you took a step back to think about what to do! I’m so proud of you. Consider how much this means to him. Remember how happy he was and then think how he would react if you’d wriggle your way into the ad campaign?”

“He would be furious. He hates how they always make it about me.”

“Exactly. And now think of your presence in a sport’s event you have absolutely zero interest in, will this outweigh Yurio’s hurt?”

Victor’s eyes flit left and right as he did his mental math. A moment later his shoulders relaxed.

“No, it doesn’t. He gets so happy when he can lecture me about games and tactics.”

“So what are you going to do?” Yuuri prodded further.

“Nothing. I will do absolutely nothing about it.”

Yuuri had to grin at the obvious relief of his future husband.

 

\--

 

Victor stayed true to his words. When the production team came to the rink one day to film Yuri in full costume on the ice, he all but greeted Dimitri politely and refrained from any further intervention aside from giving a few autographs to the crew members when requested.

Yuri eyed him suspiciously during the warm ups, not quite trusting the peace right now.

The finished clip consisted of several different athletes first shown within their profession and then while playing football.  
Yuri’s piece on the ice were a dramatic mix between slow-motion and fast movements with intense lighting. But it was replaced by yellow summer warmth as soon as it switched to the other part. They recorded it on the patch of concrete that lead to the garage of his small family home in the outskirts of Moscow. Nikolay could be seen blurred in the background, sitting on a garden chair and watching his grandson juggling the ball with precision and skill, only to shoot it towards the camera in the end.

The final version of the clip included a lot of other athletes, like swimmers, weight lifter, an archer and the dressage team including their horses. It was shown in its full length at the beginning of every game and a smaller version, ending with Yuri’s shot at the camera, was played before every mention of the world cup on the official channel.

 

\--

 

“Oi! Old man! Katsudon!”

“Yurio! Always a pleasure to see your scowl in the morning!”

Yuuri was already up and in de-escalation mode, but thankfully Yuri only rolled his eyes and barked a “ _not my name_!” at them. He suddenly looked unsure, but soon replaced it with anger.

“Listen Victor, it’s a shame that you’ve never been to a big game in a stadium. I got four tickets for the opener and Deda insists you two get them so you can witness what you’ve missed until now!”

Victor was actually pretty proud to be able to see right through this from the start. He put his finger in front of his lips and granted himself two more seconds of Yuri’s nervous fidgeting before he answered. “Then there’s no way we’ll pass on that generous offer, right Yuuri, my love?”

“Thank you very much, Yuri! I’ve never seen an opening ceremony live. I’ve been too young when the cup was held in Japan.”

Yuri made a grimace. “The hell? How ancient are you two exactly?”

 

\--

 

“Yuuuuuri? Oh! Yurio! You’re here, too?” It was a stupid question. The young man was obviously lounging on their couch, controllers already on the small table in front of him.

“Yeah, Katsudon invited me for dinner and obviously wants to beat my ass some more in FIFA. It’s ok though, since Russia’ll crush Japan anytime in real live.”

“That just makes you a sore loser, Yuri,” Yuuri said, as he exited to kitchen carrying some carrot sticks.

“Did you want something, Vitya?” Victor blossomed under the sudden attention of his fiancé.

“Ah! Yes! I need your help! What is the dress code for tomorrow’s game?”

Yuuri tried his hardest not to smile and Yuri folded his hands in a silent exasperated prayer in front of his face.

“Dress code. For a football game.” He stage whispered to the ceiling.

“Be nice, Yuri, he really tries.”

“Hey, I can hear you two just fine!”

“Do you need one?” Yuri asked his Japanese friend, totally ignoring Victor.

“Nah, I’m good,” Yuuri just shrugged. “I’ve got our current one as soon as I got the tickets from Honda-san for the Japanese games.”

“What exactly is ‘it’ you’re talking about?!”

“Relax, Vitya, it’s actually kind of easy,” when Victor was surprised by the diminutive from Yuri he didn’t show it. “You know the shop where we’re getting our gear from?”

“Yes…?”

“Go there, take Makkachin and your credit card and ask for a tricot. And if you’re asking what kind of tricot I will kick you.”

Yuri was regretting his actions later when Victor had come back with not only a tricot for himself, but one for the two Yuri’s each and for Makkachin. And in addition he’d bought about every embarrassing merchandise available, including a very ridiculous Matryochka hat.

 

\--

 

Yuri glanced towards Victor from his seat. The older skater was suspiciously quiet since they’d entered the stadium.

“Victor, you okay?”

“Wha-? Ah, yes, sure. This is as big as the Olympics.”

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?”

“It’s just… at the Olympics it’s so many different nations and here it’s just two. So many people cheering for the players…”

“Do you already feel _IT_ , Vitya?” Nikolay asked and grinned manically as he leaned forward in his seat.

“I think I might just do so, Kolya…”

 

\--

 

“YURA! YURA! YURA!!!”

“VITYA!”

“YURA! THAT WAS AMAZING! WHY HAVE WE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE???”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE A BIG IDIOT!”

“I REALLY AM A BIG IDIOT!!!”

“MY BOYS! Yurotchka! Vitenka!” Nikolay lifted both boys in a bone crushing bear hug. “Thank you so much! Here I am! With Russia’s pride! Watching Russia winning! Five glorious goals!”

“Oh my god, Deda! Your back!”

“Forget my back! Today is everything possible!” Nikolay threw his head back and laughed, soon joined by Yuri and then Victor, who hugged the Plisetskys dearly.

 

\--

 

“I have to say Yura, Victor can really wear anything.”

“What do you mean, Beka?” It was their daily Skype call late at night. Yuri had scheduled two weeks in Almaty after the cup, but for now they enjoyed the off-season so they could skype in the middle of the night.

“Here,” the notification blinked up and he saw that Otabek had sent him a link. It lead him to an article about the support of Russia’s people for their national team and the headline pictured him and Victor in mid-yell, both clutching the Russian flag while Victor wore that hideous Matryochka hat.  
The picture was descripted as: _Y. Plisetsky (l.) and V. Nikiforov (r.), known for their achievements in figure skating, are enjoying the first game of the world cup together._

“Oh my goooooood! Stop laughing Beka! Why did I let him wear that hat? Whyyyyy?!”

“But you can rock those Russia glasses, too!”

“Shut up, Beka!”

“And I might have gotten my hands on a little video of you and Victor laughing and hugging after the game?”

“What? Where did you get this?”

“Oh? So you’re not denying this?”

“It was the Katsudon, right? He was the only one there!”

“Someone,” he stressed still grinning delighted, “may have sent me the video with the caption ‘ _Cat and Poodle finally getting along’_?”

“Bekaaa! Don’t tease me!”

“So it’s been going better with Victor?”

“What can I say? The world cup is magical. Let’s see if it keeps that way when it’s over.”

“Always the optimist, Yura.”

“Shut up, Beka!”

 

\--

 

“You know I won’t get him to sleep tonight at all?”

“Not my fucking problem, Katsudon.” Yuri’s tone held no malice as they both dragged a drunken and babbling Victor to their hotel. Yuri had promised his remaining tickets to different people. He’d taken Vladimir, the Zamboni driver and his son to the second match against Egypt and Mila and Yakov to the one against Uruguay. Yuri had asked Sarah over Mila’s shoulder if she wants to come, too. To which she only replied coldly. “World Cup? You must be mistaken. There is no such thing as a World Cup this year.”

But now for the K.O. matches he’d relented and took Yuuri and Victor with them for the game against Spain and Victor was as excited as last time. Additionally Nikolay had slipped him his ominous flask from time to time, only adding to his mood. Speaking of the devil, Nikolay had stayed behind wanting to celebrate the historic win against a former world champion with some of his friends.

“What is he singing?”

“A very butchered version of our anthem”

“What was in that damn flask?”

“Knowing Dedushka it was probably his, ah, what’s the word? Moonshine?”

“Oh lord…”

“Yuuuuri! Yuuuuuuhri! Where are you, my love?”

“I’m right here, Vitya,” Yuuri replied, reaching up to stroke Victor’s hair.

“Yuuri! Did you know that I watched a football match today?”

“Yes, Vitya, I was there with you.”

“And did you know that I watched it with Yura?” Victor has reached that state of drunk where he only babbles nonsense nonstop. Next would be stripping and Yuri hoped that they would’ve reached the hotel by then.

“Yes, Vitya, I’m aware.”

“Yuuri! Yuuri! I’m so happy! I can finally do something with Yura and don’t piss him off! I’m so glad I can spend time with him!”

“Yeah? I’m glad, too, Vitya.” Yuuri glanced over to Yuri who kept his eyes firmly on the road.

“I never had siblings, Yuuri. I always wished for a little brother or sister, but I never got one. Do you think Yura would be super mad if I told him he’s like the little brother I've always wished for?”

“I don’t know, Vitya.”

“Because he really is! And I always manage to make him angry and I don’t even mean it half of the time. But he’s such a little shit sometimes! Always doing stuff he’s not supposed to do. Like quads in Juniors. Just to be better than me. Better than the rest.”

“Yes, Vitya,” Yuuri was at a loss on what to respond to him. Yuri still hadn’t said anything.

“Heh. He reminds me of myself so much. ‘Tis is why… why I wanna protect him. Cuz he’s my little brother! And I don’t want him to end like me. Before I met you, of course. Yuuri. Yuuuuri! My love! I love you so much!”

“Ah! Vitya! Let’s leave that shirt on until we’re at our room, okay?”

“But Yuuri, I wanna see your Eros in the streets.”

“Oh, for fucks sake, get a grip old man!” Yuri hauled Victor hard by the arm and started to drag them both down the cobblestone with new vigour. Thankfully he could already see the entrance of their hotel.

“Yura! You’re here! Did you watch the game? It was amazing, wasn’t it? I thought I would die during the penalty shootout! It was so amazing!”

“I’m glad you liked it, Vitya.” Yuuri looked up, he was sure he’d never heard Yuri saying Victor’s name in such a soft voice.

Victor started singing a chant again he’d heard in the stadium and thankfully they reached the couple’s room without any more stripping attempts.

“I’ll make sure he gets into bed safely” Yuuri could unlock the door in time, yet Victor had already shed his tricot as he stumbled into the room.

“Sure,” Yuri grabbed his own key card and headed down the hallway to his own room, wondering when and if his grandfather would show up at all.

“Yura?” Yuuri called after him.

“Yeah?”

“Will you come with us to the next match of the Japanese team? Vitya would like it a lot if you’d came along.” Yuri made sure to roll his eyes so hard Yuuri could see it from several meters away.

“Somebody has to console you when Belgium kicks you out of the tournament.”

“Hah! You wish! The finale will be Russia against Japan! Just wait and see!”

“Good night, Katsudon. Keep your dreams until you’re in bed with that annoying balding fiancé of yours!

 

\--

 

_10 years later. Almaty._

It was around 2 pm in the morning when his grandfather’s ringtone struck him out of his slumber.

“Issat Deda?” Otabek mumbled from the other side of the bed.

“Looks like it. Go back to sleep, I’ll see what he wants.”

He padded into the living room before he accepted the call. It was a good decision to switch rooms, because Nikolay Plisetsky’s booming voice filled his ear.

“Yuratchka! Have you seen the game?”

“Ah, Deda, no, I couldn’t! Those stupid Kazakh TV channels don’t broadcast it! But I managed to follow the ticker! Why haven’t you called earlier?”

“Ah, but I wanted to wait until you’re at home?”

“Aaah, Deda! It’s 3 hours later than in Moscow. Not earlier!”

“For fucks sake, I mixed it up again! Yurotchka! Go back to bed, we’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Kay,” Yuri couldn’t suppress a yawn. His grandfather’s inability to remember when to call and when not to was a constant source of amusement. And annoyance.

“Ah, just wanted to say though: Vitya called me today. He got the tickets for the Championship!”

“Yeah? That’s nice.”

“Ok, ok, I can hear you falling asleep. Go back and apologize to your Beka for me. We’ll discuss our trip tomorrow, yes?”

“Yeah, Deda, night, love you.”

“I love you too, Yuratchka.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, where to start, where to start xD  
> Germany's out of the cup (shame shame shame!) so I've got the space to extend my World Cup feelings to other countries after that.
> 
> Like stated at the beginning it was the sketch that inspired me to write this.  
> This was rushed down in one day and is not beta-ed, so sorry for any mistakes! And I also didn't know the results of the match Belgium against Japan when I finished writing this, which is the reason in ended with the match Spain against Russia xD
> 
> I love the picture of the gentle and loving Dedushka like the next fangirl when it comes to Nikolay. BUT I've always mused where exactly Yuri's attitude and mouth comes from!  
> So I made Nikolay a retired football Hooligan that was always in the middle of fights at matches with ravlring clubs in his youth. A Hooligan that would fight anybody who'd dared to look down on his beloved grandson because really "Tolya! Do you have an idea how hard it to hold an position like that? Do you? Do you!? My Yurotchka's got more muscles in his little toe than you in your brain, you uneducated fucker!" <3
> 
> Also I shamelessly used this to list down some of my headcanons:
> 
> \- Yuri having a really broad dialect when talking to his Dedushka (Thank you ScribblesInTheMargins for describing and pointing this out!)  
> \- Yuri and Yuuri bonding over food and videogames  
> \- Victuuri living in St Petersburg being wholesome and in a healthy relationship!  
> \- Makkachin gets to live forever!!!  
> \- Victor realizing he can be some kind of dick and h o n e s t l y trying to be better!  
> \- COMMUNICATION!  
> \- Victor and Yuri finally acting like the brother's they truely are! (I LOVE the whole Victuuri are Yura's parents thing, but honestly I think deep down Victor sees himself as the big brother (Father would sound so... >,> ... <,< ... old *stagewhispers*))


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